


The Snow King

by Batsutousai



Series: Tales of the Fairy Men [12]
Category: British Actor RPF, Marvel Cinematic Universe, Sneedronningen | The Snow Queen - Hans Christian Andersen
Genre: BAMF Frigga, First Time, Intersex Loki, M/M, Politics
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-21
Updated: 2013-12-21
Packaged: 2018-01-05 09:57:03
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 20,039
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1092545
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Batsutousai/pseuds/Batsutousai
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Running from the hardest decision of his young life, Tom finds refuge in a world he shouldn't be able to survive in. But even the hardest of choices have to be made eventually, and not even the beautiful Snow King can protect Tom from his forever.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Snow King

**Author's Note:**

> **Disclaim Her:** This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by Marvel. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended. The character of Thomas "Tom" Hiddleston is based on a real person, and no offence is intended; this is only for the amusement of myself and other like-minded (read: mentally ill) fans.
> 
> **A/N:** This is part of a series of fics based on [a challenge](http://batsutousai.tumblr.com/post/38980067347) to write your OTP using various fairy tales. And colours. Twelve fics, one per month, for the entirety of 2013.  
>  December's prompt is _The Snow Queen_ with the colour red.  
>  I have been, honest-to-Merlin, waiting for this month's prompt since I read this story back in January. ^.^"
> 
> The original tale is rife with Christianity, and is very much a tale about good and evil. Given the characters I'm playing with (namely, Loki), I'm largely throwing the 'good vs evil' bit out the window, as well as the grand adventure the MC of the tale goes on. (Whoops. XD)
> 
> I never really figured out a particular time period or exactly which country the Hiddlestons lived in. At first, I didn't really need to, and by the time I realised I probably should have, I sort of didn't care any more. I'm a...little bit sorry about that. ^.^"  
> What I can say is, this story isn't set in the modern era. Early 1900s, I think, at the absolute latest, and the Hiddleston are quite a bit north of London, though definitely still in a European country.
> 
> Anyway, ridiculously early as a Yuletide gift from me, to you. I'll see everyone again in the new year, with an entire month of smut! (I am not even kidding about this.)

-0-  
 _The Snow Queen_ \-- Red  
-0-

Tom had grown up with tales of the Snow Queen. Father had learned of them from his mother, and he loved to tell them every winter, as long as Tom could remember. (As long as _Sarah_ could remember, she'd assured him when he asked, once.)

When Tom was old enough to understand what Sarah wanted, he was happy to playact the stories with her, following her blanket-wrapped form around with the poker from the fire, acting as one of the loyal Snowflakes to her Snow Queen. Father chuckled to see them and bounced a giggling Emma on his knee as he narrated their actions. 

When Tom was seven, sitting on the low stone wall outside their schoolhouse and waiting for Sarah to finish with her friends so they could go home, he looked up and saw an unsmiling face in the snow. Skin blue and marked with lines a darker blue, eyes the colour of freshly spilled blood, the person was like a vision from one of Tom's nightmares. He jerked back and fell over the wall, knocking his head on a rock hidden under the layer of snow. 

When he woke, he was in bed, a cloth bandage wrapped around his forehead. Sarah was sitting next to his bed, hollow-eyed and face a mess of tears. When he called her name, she burst into loud sobs and fled the room. Mother came in after her retreat and carefully checked Tom's aching head. 

"What's wrong with Sarah?" Tom whispered, keeping his voice low so it needn't contend with his headache. 

Mother closed her eyes for a moment, then leaned down and kissed his forehead where it wasn't covered with the cloth. "Don't concern yourself with it, sweetheart. You focus on getting better." 

It was Father who finally explained, a couple days later, "You fell and hit your head, Tommy. By the time Sarah found you, you'd bled quite a bit." He smiled, twitching at the edges like it was forced, and added, "The Snow Queen nearly had you." 

Which was how Tom came to decide that the face he'd seen in the snow that day, blue and unsmiling, was the supposedly beautiful Snow Queen of his father's tales. 

The incident marked a number of changes in their family: Sarah became less inclined to fun, more inclined to keeping a close eye on her younger siblings; Tom no longer enjoyed the tales of the Snow Queen, and Father responded by no longer telling them; and a rift seemed to form between Mother and Father, for some reason that Tom couldn't begin to understand, but which left Sarah biting her lip as she ushered Tom and Emma away from another shouting match. 

-0-

Tom was barely a month from eighteen and watching his family fall apart. Sarah was being courted by a foreign man who had done well enough for himself, that he could easily support the eldest of the Hiddleston children, and both her younger siblings, if necessary. (And, the way Mother was slowly drifting towards death's embrace and Father had vanished into the night without a word a few months back, it might well be. At least for Emma, who was just turned fourteen and shy in a way neither of her siblings had ever been.) 

Sarah's wedding was held in the winter, and seeing her in her gown and the sparkling jewellery her new husband had provided for her, reminded Tom of the tales of their childhood about the beautiful Snow Queen. Which then reminded him of that terrible face in the snow that had so frightened him all those years ago. 

He left the church before the end of the service, unable to stay and stare at the end of everything he'd ever known. Soon, he would have to pick between taking care of Mother while his sisters left the country with Sarah's husband, or go with them and leave Mother to fend for herself. 

Tom didn't know if he could make that choice. 

He sighed and stared down at the snow around his feet, eyes tracing the way it clumped against his boots, as though it were attached to him. Wondered if it meant something, that the biggest changes in his life always happened in the snow. "Maybe I'm cursed," he whispered to himself, then snorted at the childish fantasy. Who would curse him? A blue face in the snow? 

He glanced up, deciding it was time to go, only to freeze at the sight of a delicate figure stepping off a sleigh just past the trees he'd been standing in. They were dressed all in white, with long black hair falling down their back. They turned slightly, and Tom saw the same blue skin and red eyes from his memories, but this face was kinder, lit with a smile full of both kindness and loneliness as blue hands raised towards the heavens. Snow whirled around the figure, a dance that was nearly as breath-taking as their appearance. 

_This_ was the Snow Queen of Tom's childhood, not that terrifying face from so long ago. 

As if in a dream, Tom approached the sleigh. There was no motor to move it, nor horses to draw it, and he blinked at that in confusion for a moment. Then a noise from the direction of the church startled him, and he glanced towards the Snow Queen. 

The snow around her had fallen into a less beautiful pattern as she turned red eyes towards the trees separating the field from the church. She was still for a moment, undecided, and Tom took his chance to scurry onto the sleigh, hiding his lanky frame under the seat so he wouldn't be spotted. (He didn't think to question his actions, only followed them through because a part of him, buried deep beneath nightmares and a broken family, said this was the course his life needed to take.) 

He'd acted just in time, as moments after he'd secreted himself away, the opening was blocked by the white fabric the Snow Queen wore. It was made of fur, and served as the perfect insulation against the cold as the sleigh began to move. Tom wanted to peer out and see what made it move, but he didn't want to be thrown off, and so he remained hidden. 

The Snow Queen made a number of stops to dance in the snow. Tom would always peek out to watch her dance, ever in awe of her graceful movements, and quickly pull back to hide once she looked as though she was about to return to the sleigh. Sometimes, noises of humanity scared her back to the sleigh too soon. Other times, small animals came out to meet her, and she would let out a laugh as bright as a bell and seem a little less lonely as she knelt down to run her fingers over them. 

Eventually, though, Tom began to feel sleepy. He knew he should stay awake, that falling asleep outside in the winter was dangerous, never mind how much more likely he was to be found that way, but sleep was a heavy burden and, after a long fight, he lost the battle and dozed off. 

-0-

"Wake up," a voice was pleading when Tom felt himself being dragged from dreams of snow and the ringing of a bell. "Oh, you foolish little mortal. Please wake up." 

Tom blinked his eyes open and found wide red eyes staring down at him from a face the colour of the clear day sky run through with lines the colour of midnight. Far from the terror he'd felt ten years ago, he felt oddly safe staring up at this face, and he smiled. "You're the Snow Queen," he murmured. 

The red eyes blinked in surprise, then the Snow Queen sighed. "Is that what you mortals call my people?" she wondered, and it was only now that Tom realised her voice was much deeper than he expected so beautiful a woman's voice to be. 

Tom hummed an agreement, then the words caught up to him and his brow furrowed. "Your people?" he asked. 

The Snow Queen smiled and leaned back, holding her hands out to Tom. "Come out of there before you catch your death." 

Tom let her draw him from the sleigh, grimacing when his muscles complained from having being held in the same position for hours. The Snow Queen caught him when he stumbled and reached down to press one hand against Tom's right leg, which had developed a nasty cramp and wouldn't straighten. Her hand lit with green light and Tom's muscles immediately loosened, the pain vanished. 

Tom looked at her, eyes wide. "How did you _do_ that?" 

"Magic," she replied drily, but there was a sparkle of laughter in her eyes, and Tom took that to mean he hadn't made her angry with his question. 

"Majesty," a deep voice called, and Tom looked up – and up and up, for the being who had spoken was at least twice his height, and Tom was not particularly short – into a blue face that was far more similar to the one he'd seen ten years ago. He let out a startled gasp and stepped closer to the Snow Queen, not for a moment thinking she might not protect him. 

The Snow Queen, when she spoke, sounded a bit like she was frowning. "What is it, Suttungr?" 

The giant's red eyes flicked towards Tom, then he carefully lowered himself to his knees, putting himself a bit more on height with Tom and the Snow Queen. "Forgive me, Majesty. Your companion cannot remain in Jötunheimr." 

The Snow Queen sighed. "Thank you, Suttungr." 

The giant bowed his head. "I will gladly return the mortal to his home, if it is your wish." 

"I don't have a home," Tom was quick to interrupt. He didn't want to go back to the hard choice facing him at home. He'd much rather stay with the Snow Queen. 

The Snow Queen narrowed her eyes at him for a moment, then hummed and looked back at the giant. "I will send for you," she informed him. The giant bowed his head again, then stood and walked away. 

Only once he was gone, did the Snow Queen turn her attention back to Tom, tapping her chin with one long finger. "I do not care for liars, mortal," she commented, tone mild, but something in Tom recognised it as a warning to tell the truth. 

He shifted and hugged himself, pushing his hands into his armpits to protect them from the cold he could feel beginning to seep past the warmth of his heavy coat. "I have to pick, to either take care of my mum and never see my sisters again, or stay with my sisters and leave Mum to die all alone. I don't..." He looked away from her, unwilling to see her judgement. "I can't make that choice." 

The Snow Queen was silent for a long moment before murmuring, "Mortals die here. I can protect you for a time, from the cold, but you will eventually have to make your choice, or fall to the cruelties of my Realm." She stepped forward and pressed a hand against his coat, over his heart. "Already, you're dying. I can keep you alive for a week, but no more." She pulled her hand away and met Tom's eyes steadily when he looked up at her. "You cannot run from your choices forever." 

Tom looked down at his feet. "I know that," he whispered, feeling the weight of his options bearing down on him again. "I just..." He swallowed. "I need a little more time." 

The Snow Queen sighed. "One week," she warned before a hand that was cold as ice pushed against the bottom of Tom's chin, forcing him to raise his head. Before he could react to the chill creeping along his jaw, the Snow Queen leaned in and kissed him. 

Tom felt like his blood turned to ice for one brief moment and he grabbed for her arms, terrified, but then warmth flowed through him, melting away every hint of chill, even what he'd been feeling from their environment. When she pulled back, Tom blinked at her, feeling a little dazed. "Wha– What was that?" he managed. 

The Snow Queen smiled, looking a little bit smug, and informed him, "Magic." 

Tom blinked a couple times in quick succession. "Right." 

She laughed, the sound like a bell still, in spite of her deep voice, and gently pulled Tom's hands from her arms. "Come, little mortal. It seems you are to be my guest for a time." 

"Tom," he said. At her raised eyebrow, he explained, "My name is Tom." 

She nodded. "What is it you called me earlier? Snow Queen?" 

Tom nodded. "Yes, ma'am." 

She laughed again. "My dear Tom, I'm afraid you have your genders mixed up." 

That brought Tom up short and he stopped walking to stare after her. Him? "I– What?" he stammered. 

The Snow Queen – King? – glanced back at him with an amused smile. "I am a male." She – he? Truly? – shrugged. "Or, well, as much a male as any of my people." S- _He_ shook his head. "Gender is a complicated matter for we Jötnar. But, so far as most other species are concerned, we are male." 

Tom took a moment to internalise that, then caught up with him. "But, then, how do you have children, if you're all–?" He flushed, realising how personal the question was. "Oh, God. I'm sorry. That's really none of my business." 

The Snow King laughed, strangely delighted, and grabbed Tom's arm to tuck it inside his own. "You Midgardians are so young and unknowing. It's really quite refreshing." 

"Midgardians?" Tom repeated. 

The Snow King glanced at him, red eyes dancing with amusement and lacking all the loneliness Tom remembered from back home. "We call your Realm Midgard, so your species is Midgardian." 

Tom nodded, brow furrowing as he considered that. "We call our planet – our...realm?" The Snow King nodded patiently, eyes still dancing. "We call it Earth. And we're humans." 

The Snow King hummed. "Humans from Earth," he repeated, shaping the words as though he were tasting them. He tilted his head slightly, then glanced at Tom again. "This Realm is called Jötunheimr, and my people are the Jötnar. I believe on...Earth, you would call us frost giants." 

"Frost giants?" Tom repeated. He thought that was an apt name for the giant who had spoken to them by the sleigh, but the Snow King was Tom's size. 

The Snow King's smile turned bitter. "I am a runt, I'm afraid." 

Tom offered a hopeful smile. "You seem exactly the right size to me." 

The Snow King laughed and squeezed Tom's arm. "I suppose that's very true," he allowed before stopping in front of a wall of ice, his expression turning wistful. "Welcome to the palace." He sighed and motioned, causing a small hole to form in the ice ahead of them. "Or what's left of it." 

Past the wall, Tom could see what the Snow King meant: The ceiling had fallen in in the centre, leaving piles of ice scattered across the ground ahead of them. Parts of the wall looked like it had been smashed in, ruining what looked to have once been a series of drawings covering the walls. "What happened?" he whispered. 

The Snow King's expression tightened. "My father didn't always make the wisest choices." 

"You mean he courted war with anyone smaller than him," a voice boomed, and Tom jumped to find a giant looming over them from where he'd been leaning against the wall they'd come through. The giant's craggy face split with a sharp smile. "Which was everyone." 

The Snow King snorted. "Not all of us are so careless as to speak ill of the dead, Helblindi." He leaned his head closer to Tom's and offered, "My brother, Helblindi, First Prince of Jötunheimr." 

"I'm not speaking ill of him, Brother," Helblindi insisted. "He was quite proud of the fact that he stepped on so many tiny creatures." His eyes zeroed in on Tom, making the human shift to put the Snow King between them. "On that note, what business have you to bring a _mortal_ into the palace?" 

The Snow King pointed his finger at his brother, and Tom was surprised to see Helblindi jerk back in fear. "Tell me, Brother," the Snow King murmured, voice soft, yet the words filled with enough ice that Tom shivered from imagined cold, "which of us is king?" 

"You are, Majesty," Helblindi admitted, eyes downcast. 

"And who forced me to take the throne?" 

"I did." 

The Snow King nodded. "So you did," he agreed lightly. "Does this give you the right to question my motives?" 

Helblindi scowled. "But Father–"

" _I. Am not. **Laufey**!_ " the Snow King roared, and his voice echoed off the walls and what was left of the ceiling, repeating the final word over and over again. 

Helblindi flinched away, stumbling into the wall behind him. Tom didn't blame him; he'd have run away from the Snow King's anger too, if his hand wasn't still trapped in the Snow King's grip. 

The Snow King took a deep breath and looked away. "Be glad I'm not," he added quietly. 

Helblindi swallowed and gave a deep bow. "Apologies, Majesty. I should not have questioned you." 

"You shouldn't have," the Snow King agreed before turning and drawing Tom along behind him as he started to cross the ruined room. They were both silent for long moments, before the Snow King quietly offered, "I'm sorry. Helblindi and I have never got on." 

Tom swallowed. "But he made you king?" he asked, and hoped he wouldn't be yelled at for asking questions. 

The Snow King sighed and gently squeezed Tom's arm in a manner that was clearly intended to be soothing. "Some of my father's unwise choices made me the far better option, for a great many reasons. Helblindi, for all he shares our father's pleasures for war, is far more cognisant of the needs of his Realm and people. He did take the throne, for two days, before realising he would only cause more damage. He offered it to Býleistr, our other brother, but he insisted it needed to be my duty. Helblindi...saw to it that I agreed, whether I wanted to or not." 

Tom reached over with his free hand to squeeze the Snow King's arm. "I'm sorry," he offered. 

The Snow King glanced over at him, an emotion Tom couldn't quite put words to in his eyes. "It's hardly your fault." 

"All the same," Tom insisted. "I'm sorry." 

The Snow King hummed, then fell silent. 

They didn't speak again until they had passed into a human-sized hallway hidden behind what Tom thought had been a throne, once, before it, too, had fallen to ruin. The hallway continued for a ways before opening up into a room easily the size of the house Tom had grown up in. 

"This is my room," the Snow King said, finally breaking the silence, as he let go of Tom's arm. "Very few of my people have enough control over their shape to be able to come in here, and those that do, never do so without very good reason. You will be safe in here." He started across the room, motioning with one hand to where a pile of furs sat against one wall. "You may sleep there for the length of your stay. I'll gather some extra furs so you can stretch out a bit more." 

"But, where will you sleep?" Tom asked, horrified at the thought that the Snow King might be giving up his bed for him, as that appeared to be the only such pile in the entire room. 

The Snow King chuckled and motioned to a platform of ice, which was dented in the centre. "Your blood is warm, so you prefer to wrap yourself in warmth when you sleep, but Jötnar have blood made of ice, and so we much prefer to be surrounded by cold." 

"I can't imagine that being comfortable," Tom admitted. 

The Snow King pulled more fur from a cubby set deep into the wall and motioned with it. "Likewise. Here, take these and arrange them to your preference." He sighed and eyed Tom's clothing as he accepted the furs, which were surprisingly heavy. "I'll have to find some proper clothing for you, somewhere." 

Tom glanced down at his coat and frowned. "What's wrong with my coat? It's warm." 

"My spell doesn't require you remain so dressed for warmth," the Snow King returned, moving to another alcove. "Anyway, only fools and dead men wear such bright colours in Jötunheimr. No, take everything off and let me see you. With luck, I won't have to change much to fit you." 

Tom dropped the pile of furs onto what was already there, blushing. Get naked? Even if the Snow King _was_ male, baring oneself was hardly polite amongst family, never mind complete strangers. 

Though, now that he thought of it, all of the giants Tom had seen so far had been wearing only a loincloth. Surrounded by so much ice, the colour of their skin let them blend in far better than Tom's own skin would, or the Snow King's white furs. 

He glanced towards the Snow King and felt his blush double upon realising he was undressing, leaving him wearing nothing more than the loincloth the other giants wore. When the Snow King glanced towards Tom, he raised an eyebrow and said, "You're still dressed, Tom." 

Tom hunched forward, hugging himself. "We – humans, I mean – don't just...undress for strangers." 

The Snow King sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. "No," he agreed, "I don't suppose you warm-blooded sort _would_ approve of baring yourself." He shook his head and levelled an uncompromising stare on Tom. "Were this not a matter of your safety, I would be happy to allow you your customs. As it is, I need you out of that clothing so I can alter something of mine to fit you. Either you undress under your own power, or I will do it for you. Do you understand?" 

Tom understood. He gave himself a moment to calm down, then pulled off his coat. Under that was a scarf than Emma had knitted him for his last birthday, which he stuffed into one of the arms of his coat with his hat. His gloves got shoved in the coat's pockets – he'd honestly forgotten he'd been wearing them – then he dropped the coat onto the furs. 

Next was his suit jacket, bowtie already shoved carelessly into one pocket. The waistcoat followed the jacket, then his pale blue dress shirt – Sarah had insisted on the colour because it matched both Tom and Emma's eyes, and she wanted her siblings to look excellent. He took a moment to fight with his boots, hopping from foot to foot because it was slightly more dignified than getting down on the ground for the brief moment it would take to unlace them and tug them off. Once his boots were out of the way, he stripped off his trousers, leaving him in just his long underwear. 

He paused, glancing towards the Snow King. "All of it," he ordered, unbending. 

Tom bit his bottom lip and quickly undid the buttons and let it slide off, hands held in front of his privates to hide them from view. When he glanced back up at the Snow King, he found him turned away, looking through some fabric, but Tom could tell he was smiling. He blushed and looked down at where his long underwear was piled around his feet. He kicked it away, not wanting it to get in the way, and glanced up in time to find the Snow King approaching him with what looked like a loincloth. 

"Can you put this on yourself?" he asked. 

Tom swallowed and shook his head. "I don't know," he admitted. Because he'd read about loincloths, certainly, but it was hardly something he'd ever bothered trying to learn how to put on. 

The Snow King nodded, clearly having expected that. "I'll show you. Move your hands." 

Tom's face heated further. "I don–"

The Snow King sighed. "I assure you, you have nothing I haven't seen before. Move them." 

Tom swallowed and did as he was told. Thankfully, the Snow King was quick and clinical in showing him how to put the loincloth on. It didn't help with Tom's blush, not really, but it did make him feel a little better to have at least _some_ clothing on. 

The Snow King stepped back and considered Tom once the loincloth was on. "Hm. You're much slighter than I'd thought." 

"That's not really a compliment," Tom mumbled. 

The Snow King tapped the bottom of his chin. "Depends who you're talking to. To a Jötunn, a slight form is far preferable to an overly-muscled one, as we are better served by endurance and ability to slip into small bolt holes than the ability to lift heavy things." His smile turned a little bitter. "Most of my people are stronger than the strongest of the Æsir, anyway, simply because of our greater size." 

"Æsir?" Tom repeated as the Snow King turned and walked back towards his white clothing. 

The Snow King nodded. "They look very like you humans. They're from the Realm of Asgard." He glanced back at Tom, smile still bitter. "They and my people are mortal enemies, thanks to the actions of Laufey." He motioned towards the hallway they'd walked through, then picked up some clothing and started back to Tom. "They were the ones to leave the palace in such a state." 

"Did they kill your father?" Tom asked, curious. 

The Snow King shrugged. "No, but he did die from the wounds they gave him." 

Tom blinked. "Isn't that the same thing?" 

The Snow King snorted. "Not in our culture. There is no 'glory' found in your opponent dying long after you've delivered your final blow." 

"You don't approve," Tom surmised. 

Red eyes caught his and held his gaze as the Snow King stopped in front of him. "My people and I do not see eye-to-eye in a great many ways." 

Tom couldn't help but laugh at that, though he got the sense it wasn't meant to be funny. "Sorry," he offered, holding a hand up to cover the smile he couldn't quite hide. "That's...not really funny. I'm sorry." 

The Snow King's mouth turned up with a smile. "Oh, no, please do laugh. Norns know I do every time one of them thinks they can talk me around to their point of view." Tom took that as permission to lower his hand. "Now, then. I assume you know what to do with this?" He held out a long white shirt. 

Tom nodded and gratefully pulled it on over his head. It came down to just above his knees, and fit a little tighter than he would have expected. Slits on both sides, starting a little below his hips, kept it from pulling tight and tripping him up if he wanted to move quickly. "No trousers?" he asked when the next thing the Snow King held out was a fur robe very like what he'd been wearing on Earth. 

The Snow King raised an eyebrow at him. "Take a moment to think about that; do my people look like the sort to wear trousers?" 

Tom grimaced. "Oh. Right." He took the robe and slipped it on over the tunic. The sleeves were long enough to cover his hands, and the back tickled the backs of his naked legs, but it felt comfortable and he hugged it around himself. "Thank you." 

The Snow King gave a brisk nod and turned away, towards the hallway out into the main palace. "I need to meet with my brothers and the other generals and ministers. You may look about in here, but if you see something glowing, I suggest you leave it alone." 

"Okay." 

The Snow King stopped at the opening to the hallway and looked back to meet Tom's eyes. "Stay in here." 

"I will," Tom promised; he had no interest in meeting any more giants without the Snow King next to him. 

The Snow King considered that for a moment, then nodded, apparently convinced, and left. 

Tom remained standing in place for a long moment before he dropped to his bum and pulled his shoes over to put back on. With the promise that he wouldn't chance cutting his feet if he stepped on one of the cracks he could see in the ground, he set to exploring the large room. 

He found all sorts of liquids and animal bits in what looked like glass containers, but the table and shelves they were on were glowing green, so he gave it all a wide berth. 

One entire corner had been given over to bookshelves. One of them was glowing green, and a few of the other shelves were also lit up, but there were plenty of normal shelves. Alas, when he pulled down one of the books, he found it was written in an alphabet he didn't know. It looked a little like some of the runes one of his teachers had spent a week talking about and translating poorly, but he didn't see any of the runes he remembered. The next three books he pulled down were exactly the same and he put them all back with a resigned sigh. 

There was a desk covered in parchment, ink pens, and what looked like blood in an inkwell. "I don't suppose there's a lot else they can use for ink," he murmured to himself as he recapped the blood. Even though none of the papers were glowing, he left it all alone, expecting it was all written in the same quasi-runes he'd seen in the books, and not sure he should be snooping through the Snow King's documents, anyway. 

In the farthest corner from anything else, darkened against whatever light source there was – Tom hadn't seen any obvious flames, and while the glowing objects gave off some light, it wasn't quite enough to explain the ambient light throughout the room – Tom found what looked like instruments. None of them were glowing, so he didn't hold himself back from picking up what looked very like a recorder. It looked as though it was made out of some form of bone and sanded down to a shiny finish before gold flourishes were added to the lip and the base, out of the way of the player's fingers and mouth. It looked quite stunning, really, and Tom took a long moment to appreciate it before bringing it around to his lips to see what sort of sound he could get out of it. 

The tone was much deeper than any other recorder Tom had ever tried, but it was also a fair bit larger. He considered it a moment, then went through the scale, seeing what sounds he could pull from it, so he could decide what song to play. He settled on a mournful ballad he'd heard somewhere when he was younger. 

It didn't hit him until he'd finished that the song was about the cold of winter killing everything. 

He stared at his fingers, standing out starkly against the white of the recorder and his robe, then shook his head and set the instrument down. "There's got to be something capable of a little more cheer around here," he murmured to himself. 

By the time the Snow King returned, Tom had gone through the rest of the instruments and returned to the bone recorder, as it was the one he was the most comfortable with. 

"Enjoying yourself?" the Snow King called from the entrance. 

Tom startled and spun around, clutching at the recorder. "I– Uhm, I'm sorry if I wasn't supposed to touch them. They just looked so lonely and I couldn't read any of the books and–"

The Snow King waved his apology away with a quiet laugh. "Norns, no. Please, have at them. I have little talent for music, so if any of them strike your fancy, you're more than welcome to keep them when you return to Midga– Ah. Earth." 

Tom glanced down at the recorder. "Thank you," he replied quietly. Then, after a beat, he asked, "What animal is this made from? It _is_ bone, right?" 

The Snow King frowned faintly and came over to join Tom in the darkened corner, holding one hand out for the recorder. When Tom handed it over, it stared at it in thought for a long moment, then held it out. "It is bone, yes. I believe that particular piece was once the foreleg of a beast that no longer exists in your Realm. Are you familiar with mammoths?" 

Tom frowned and shook his head. "I don't believe so." 

The Snow King hummed in thought, then shrugged. "You know of elephants?" 

"Oh, yes. Or, well, I've seen pictures of them, at least." 

"Mm. They're quite closely related, the two." He tapped the recorder with one blue finger. "Laufey carved that for me after he killed the mammoth. It was as small as he could manage." He snorted. "I had to reshape the holes so I could actually reach them. Even then..." He shrugged. "As I said, I have little talent for music." He turned away and started towards the desk. "Play something." 

All Tom could think off was the ballad about winter, so he shrugged and played it for the Snow King. And when he was done and the king didn't stop him, he let his fingers take over and just played bits and pieces of whatever came to mind. 

Sometimes, when he glanced up towards the Snow King, who was bent over his parchments, he saw a smile on his face in response to the happier tunes. The sadder ones would make him frown, and so Tom made a concerted effort to keep the tunes cheerful for as long as he could keep playing. 

-0-

The next day, the Snow King showed him around the rest of the palace. No one dared question Tom's presence, and he got the opportunity to meet the Snow King's other brother, Býleistr, whom he seemed to get along with far better. 

"You said you had sisters?" the Snow King – who Tom had finally been told by Býleistr was named Loki – asked him after the evening meal, while they were both laying in their respective beds, but not yet asleep. 

Tom glanced up from where he'd been tracing the edges of the gold design on the recorder. "Yes, two. Sarah and Emma." 

Loki hummed thoughtfully. "Do you ever fight with them?" 

Tom looked back down at his fingers pressed against the gold and white. "When Sarah announced her engagement and her fiancé's intention to take her back to his country, we had a massive row. But other than that, no, not really." He pressed his thumb against the gold hard enough that it would leave an impression on the pad when he drew it back. "Why?" 

Loki was silent for a long moment before admitting, "I can't imagine such a good relationship with my brothers." 

Tom set the recorder aside and sat up a bit, resting his head against the wall so he could see the shadow he knew was the Snow King. "Emma and Sarah fight all the time. I've never understood it, because I get on so well with both of them. But I think, maybe, it's different when you're different genders?" 

Loki sighed. "Perhaps so." 

Tom chewed his lower lip for a long moment before blurting out, "Will you teach me to read your language?" 

Loki twisted on his ice and raised his upper body enough that he could look towards Tom, his long hair a dark shadow across his shoulders and hanging down beneath his head. "For what purpose?" he asked. And it didn't _sound_ like a no, but it didn't sound like a yes, either. 

Tom looked down at his hands, twisting his fingers together nervously against the fur he'd covered himself with. "I don't understand it. And I'd– Well, I like reading. I like learning new things." 

Loki let out a quiet huff of laughter. "Yes, I'd noticed that about you." 

So Tom was curious about everything. At least Loki was patient about answering everything, though he snapped at anyone else who asked a question of him. Tom couldn't tell if he was special for some reason, or if Loki was gentle with him because he was still new to this world. Realm. 

Loki laid back down, commenting, "Far be it from me to deny someone the right to knowledge. I'll teach you in the morning. Go to sleep." 

Tom laid back down. "Thank you, Snow King," he offered quietly. 

Loki let out an amused huff in response. 

-0-

Loki cast two spells on Tom in the morning. "One will let you understand the runes as though they are in your alphabet, the other will translate my language into the closest version to yours that I'm familiar with," he'd explained as he pulled a couple books down from the shelves. 

Tom frowned. "But, we're speaking my tongue." 

Loki snorted and set the two books he'd grabbed in front of Tom. "Not in the least. I'm speaking what is known as the AllTongue, which is a magical language that sounds like the native language of any who hear it." 

Tom blinked. "And this AllTongue lets you understand me, as well?" 

"To an extent," Loki allowed, shrugging. "I know a great many more languages than my people, so I have an easier time understanding you than they do; you occasionally use words that there is no equivalent for in our native tongue." 

That didn't particularly surprise Tom. Still... "How can I learn AllTongue?" 

Loki raised both eyebrows at him and gave him a long look, which brought a blush to Tom's cheeks for no good reason. "At your stage of cognitive development, it would take you far longer than I have to teach you, for you to learn it." 

Tom looked down at the books in front of him, resting his hand on the one on top. "How much longer?" he asked stubbornly. 

Loki took a gentle hold of his chin and raised Tom's head to catch his gaze. "How many languages are you fluent in?" 

Tom frowned. "Only one." 

Loki nodded, as though Tom's answer had confirmed what he'd already known. "It would take you at least seven months." His thumb traced along Tom's lower lip for a moment before he snatched his hand back and turned away. "Have you given any further consideration to your choice?" 

Tom looked back down at the books, mind awhirl with questions about Loki's touch and his people's language and the AllTongue and a hundred other things that he'd observed during his two full days, but hadn't found the courage to ask. "No," he admitted, because he was actively trying to avoid thinking about home. 

"I suggest you do so, before you run out of time," Loki snapped, then stalked from the room. 

Tom stared after him for a moment, hurt and strangely cold at the unexpected dismissal. He felt like he'd just missed something important, but he had no idea what it might have been. 

-0-

By the time Loki returned to collect him for dinner, Tom had finished the two books the Snow King had pulled down for him and had found a third one for himself. Loki had cast an approving eye over his choice, then picked out another two books and set them on Tom's furs. "Best to leave the books here," he cautioned as Tom gathered his current book to bring with him. "Jötnar are not known for their care of parchment." 

Tom grimaced and quickly set his current book on top of the other two on the furs. "One of Emma's friends is like that. I nearly throttled him the first time I saw him throw a book in the mud." 

"Why didn't you?" Loki asked curiously, taking Tom's arm with the easy familiarity he always adopted when he led the human out of the safe haven of the king's room. 

Tom laughed at the memory of his little sister picking up the dirty book and bringing it up with impressive velocity between the boy's legs. "Emma beat me to it." 

Loki let out a startled laugh and squeezed Tom's arm. "I think I would quite enjoy your sister's company, Tom." 

Tom swallowed against an odd block in his throat. "I'll introduce you, one day." 

Loki's smile took on the same forced edge Tom's father's smile had once had all those years ago, when he made light of Tom's near-death. "One day," he agreed. 

Tom looked away and tried not to be hurt by whatever Loki wasn't telling him. 

-0-

"My brother is quite taken with you," Býleistr told Tom on his fifth day in Jötunheimr. A mammoth had been reported within an hour's walk of the palace, and while Loki hadn't seemed to care, he'd been quick to suggest that Býleistr could take Tom out to see the creature, if he wanted to. (Of _course_ Tom wanted to.) 

"Taken?" Tom repeated, clutching his fingers in the strange back/shoulder saddle Býleistr had put on for Tom to ride in, so they could talk and Tom didn't slow him down any. Tom assumed it had been built for Loki, though he didn't know how much use it had seen. 

Býleistr chuckled, the sound low and rumbling through the tough hide of the saddle. "Very much so. Or do you think he allows just anyone unhindered access to his person?" 

"To his–" Tom shook his head. "I don't understand." 

Býleistr peeked over his shoulder. "No," he realised, "I suppose you don't." He shook his head, and Tom ducked to avoid being hit with the giant's short-cut black hair. "Last night, when you fell asleep on Loki's shoulder, and the way he holds your arm when you're walking together? He's never allowed anyone such liberties with his person before." 

Tom huffed. "No offence, but you're all sort of _big_ ; I wouldn't want one of you to fall asleep on me, either." 

Býleistr chuckled again. "True enough, but that's not what I meant. Before Laufey and Odin AllFather–" the leader of Asgard, Tom knew from Loki's books "–decided they hated each other and needed to wipe each other out, our people were... Well, I wouldn't say _friends_ with the Æsir, but we got on well enough that those of us that could change our size were more than welcome to visit and enjoy their hospitality. Be that hospitality the sort of sweet foods we can't grow in Jötunheimr, or the pleasures of sex." 

Tom's eyes went wide at the images that flashed through his mind, of Loki in some of the positions he'd caught a couple of his villagers in, not to mention the one time he'd seen his _parents_...

"Oh, good, I don't have to explain that word to you," Býleistr teased. 

Tom smacked his shoulder, though he suspected the giant wouldn't feel it through his tough skin. "I'm not _that_ young." 

Býleistr snorted. "You're still a babe, to a Jötunn." 

Tom had read that it took Loki's people almost forty years to mature enough that they were considered an adult. "It's a good thing I'm a human, then," he muttered before raising his voice a bit to ask, "Was there a point to this?" 

"A point to– Ah, yes. The point is, no matter how many partners Loki took, no matter how often he entertained them, he never would have linked arms with one of them. And he _certainly_ never would have let one of them fall asleep on him. You're special." 

Tom blinked, his mind stuttering to a halt. "Maybe he, uhm. Well, he was really worried about my safety, since none of you wanted me here." 

Býleistr frowned. "Wanted? Oh, no, it's hardly that. Loki's breaking about a four laws by travelling to Midgard at all to see to his duties. To bring a mortal back with him, though? By all rights, he should have killed you as soon as you saw him." 

Tom shivered and wrapped his arms around himself. "Why? What did I do?" 

"You saw him breaking the treaty with Odin AllFather." 

Tom made a mental note to find out more about the treaty once he returned to Loki's room. "If he was supposed to kill me, why did everyone keep saying he needed to send me back?" 

Býleistr shrugged, forcing Tom to grab for the edges of the saddle. "You know my brother; do you think he'd ever agree to kill anyone?" 

"Helblindi, maybe," Tom muttered, having seen enough of their interactions to know there was no love lost between the eldest two brothers. 

Býleistr snorted. "Someone _other_ than Helblindi." 

Tom shook his head. "No. He's sort of a pacifist." 

"A what now?" 

Tom grimaced. Right, not a concept that existed in their language. "He hates war." 

Býleistr sighed. "That is very true. And if he wasn't exactly what we needed right now to keep this Realm together, he would be facing daily assassination attempts." 

Tom jerked in surprise. "Has anyone tried killing Loki?" 

"Oh, sure." He glanced at Tom and hurried to assure him, "No one's ever got close enough to throw an icicle at him, never mind actually managed to hurt him. He's very good at protecting himself, and as unpopular a king as he is, everyone in the palace knows he's one of the few sorcerers keeping our Realm held together." Býleistr reached up and patted the strap of the saddle just in front of Tom. "He's safe, I promise you." 

Tom settled back down, but he didn't feel any better. He wouldn't feel better until he'd checked on Loki himself. 

Býleistr chuckled. "Well, it's always good to know Loki's not the only one who doesn't want you going back to Midgard." 

Tom hunkered down a bit at the reminder that, within two days, he needed to make his choice regarding whether he'd rather live with his sisters or his mother. He didn't _want_ to make that choice, would prefer to just stay in Jötunheimr, reading Loki's books and listening to Loki trade insults with Helblindi and learn the AllTongue from Loki and walk around the palace with Loki and–

"Oh," Tom whispered, it finally clicking that he want to stay with Loki more than he wanted to not have to choose between his family. He crouched down inside the saddle, curling around his bare knees. 

"Now he figures it out," Býleistr muttered. "You really are so unbelievably young." 

Tom clenched his eyes shut. "I want to go back to the palace," he decided. "Take me back." 

"No. I promised to show you a mammoth, and that is what we're going to do. I really don't care what sort of emotional crisis you're suffering right now." 

"No wonder he hates you," Tom complained. 

Býleistr snorted and didn't bother responding to that. 

-0-

The mammoth, once they found it, was pretty impressive. And while Tom didn't feel much better about having sorted out his feelings for Loki – either way, he still had to leave – he did come out of his shell enough to ask Býleistr about why Jötunheimr needed sorcerers to hold it together and why Loki being on Earth was part of his duties. Which was how he finally found out about the stolen Casket of Ancient Winters and the fact that Jötunheimr's health was closely tied to winters on Earth. Sending the Jötunn sorcerers to Earth every year so they could stir up the snow was one of the few ways they had of keeping their Realm alive. 

"There hasn't been another sorcerer born since the Casket was stolen," Býleistr admitted quietly. "They're always runts, like Loki, and that makes them vulnerable to a great many dangers. Within another three millennia, Jötunheimr will be gone." 

"Doesn't Odin AllFather realise how much danger you're in?" Tom asked. 

Býleistr shrugged. "I have no idea whether he knows, or even cares. I assume his problem is the latter, but I'm not endangering the treaty just to ask him." 

The palace had just come into sight when a beam of multi-coloured light cut through the horizon. Býleistr stiffened and immediately started running towards the palace. "When we reach the wall, go inside and tell my brothers we have visitors. Quickly," he ordered. 

"Right," Tom shouted back, clutching at the saddle with both hands. 

When they reached the wall, Býleistr wasted no time in holding up a hand to help Tom down, then left him in front of where the wall had opened for him. Tom dashed through the opening and across the hall to where Loki, Helblindi, and the men he assumed made up Loki's ministers were gathered around the ruined throne. 

Loki was up and out of his chair like a shot, meeting Tom at least three yards away from the gathering and catching his face between blue hands. "Tom, what is it? What's frightened you?" 

Tom reached up and caught hold of Loki's wrists. "There was light on the horizon. Býleistr said to tell you you've got visitors." 

Loki's expression hardened. " _Æsir_ ," he snarled, twisting his wrists in Tom's grip until the human let go. Before Tom could feel hurt by that, Loki had wrapped an arm around him and was leading him back towards the throne. He called out orders as he moved, sending everyone scurrying to prepare for the fight they were all certain was about to occur. 

At last, when it was only Tom and Loki left at the foot of the throne, the Snow King cupped Tom's face and stared at him for a moment before pulling away entirely. "Tom, I need you to go into ou– my room and stay there. No matter what you might hear, no matter what happens, I need you to stay–"

"Where is the Midgardian called Tom Hiddleston?" a voice boomed before the far wall crashed in. 

"Go," Loki ordered, pushing Tom towards the back of the ruined throne and the half-hidden passage. "Go _now_."

Tom turned and fled towards safety, heart in his throat and breathing a prayer that Loki would be safe. 

Just as he was about to step into the passage, a familiar voice called, "Where have you hidden my brother, you _monster_?!"

"Emma," Tom breathed, turning away from safety. His little sister was here, somehow. That was wonderful! He could introduce her and Loki, just like he promised. 

And then his mind caught up to him and he realised three things all at once: Emma had just come with whoever had smashed in the far wall, Emma had just called one of the Jötnar – probably _Loki_ – a monster, and humans would freeze to death within an hour if they remained on Jötunheimr. It had been at least a half hour since Tom had seen the light. 

He dashed around the throne, calling, "Loki! She's going to die if she stays here!" 

Loki was still at the foot of the throne, and he caught Tom around the waist as soon as he was in reach, stopping him from running out to where a line of heavily armed Jötnar stood between them and two human-sized figures. Tom recognised the ugly pink anorak Emma wore everywhere when it was cold, unless Mother or Sarah forced her into her heavier coat, but the flutter of red cape behind silver armour was unknown to him. 

"I told you to _hide_ ," Loki hissed under the sound of Emma calling, "Tom? Tom, I've come to rescue you!" 

Tom squeezed the arm around his waist and met the angry red eyes glaring at him. "That's my _little sister_ , Snow King," he whispered. "I can't hide away while she's freezing to death. Please can't you do something?" 

"I will destroy you all if I have need to," the deep voice that had sounded before the wall broke in threatened, "but I am not leaving without the Midgardian." 

Loki closed his eyes and leaned his head forward until their foreheads were touching. Tom leaned into the contact, sliding the hand that had been squeezing the king's arm to wrap around his waist. "You are not making this easy," he breathed, cold air puffing against Tom's lips. 

"I'm sorry," Tom whispered, even though he wasn't. Because a part of him – a very large part of him – understood that this was goodbye; the chances of him seeing Loki again were, while hardly non-existent, extremely slim. He would take what he could get. 

Loki let out a shaky breath, then pulled away. "Go," he ordered Tom coolly before calling out to the line of Jötnar, "Back to your positions! The Odinson and Midgardians are leaving." 

Tom turned a walked towards where Emma was bouncing in place next to the man in the red cape. He was holding a hammer in one hand and was glaring past Tom towards Loki. Once Tom reached them, however, he let go of Emma's arm – probably the only thing that had kept her from making a dash for the throne – and she threw herself into Tom's arms. "You're okay!" she cried, curling against him. 

" _Jesus_ ," Tom breathed as her frozen face touched his neck. He shrugged out of his robe and wrapped it around her shoulders before looking at the red-caped man. "If we don't leave _right now_ , she is going to _die_. And I swear to _God_ , if my sister dies because you dragged her to Jötunheimr–"

"Your point is made, young Tom," the man rumbled before raising his hammer towards the hole in the roof. "Heimdall! Open the Bifröst!" 

The beam of light that Tom had seen on the horizon before came down towards them. Just before it could connect, Tom looked back, over his shoulder, to where Loki was holding himself stiffly in front of the throne. Even with the distance between them, Tom swore he could see the return of the loneliness that had been absent from Loki's eyes for the past five days, and it broke his heart in two. 

-0-

As soon as they arrived in a golden dome, the man with the hammer turned to Tom and held out his hands. "I will see Lady Emma to the healers immediately." 

Tom had to fight with himself for a moment before he could let his sister go; he had no idea where the healers were, or if they'd even listen to him if he was the one to bring her. "Take care of her," he pleaded. 

The man nodded and looked up at a dark-skinned man standing on a dais as he passed. "Heimdall." 

"Prince Thor," the dark-skinned man rumbled in response. 

Tom watched after the red-caped man – the AllFather's eldest son, apparently – until he'd jumped and started flying towards the distant city, Emma clutched tight against his chest. With Emma on her way, Tom turned his attention on the other man. "You're the Gatekeeper," he commented. 

"I am," the man agreed. 

"They say you can see and hear everything." 

"I can." 

Tom clenched his hands into fists at his side. "Then I really have to ask, why is Jötunheimr in such bad shape still? Does your king not _care_ that they're dying?" 

Gold eyes turned on Tom and it was all he could do to hold firm under the weight of that stare. After what felt like an eternity, the heavy gaze turned away from him, and Heimdall said, "Those are questions best posed to the AllFather, young Midgardian." 

Before Tom could come up with a response to that, a woman hurried into the dome, the fabric of her dress streaming out behind her. "Heimdall," she called before stopping upon seeing Tom, who frowned at her; he wasn't feeling too hospitable towards the people of Asgard, honestly. 

"This is Tom Hiddleston of Midgard, my Queen," Heimdall introduced, not looking away from the stars he'd turned to after staring at Tom. 

The woman – Frigga AllMother, Tom assumed – let out a relieved breath and smiled at him. "Thank the Norns. We've been quite worried for you ever since your sister stumbled into the middle of Iðavǫllr two days ago, Tom." 

"I was perfectly safe where I was," Tom informed her stiffly. He felt rather...underdressed for meeting a queen. He would very much have appreciated some trousers, or at least the robe he'd wrapped around Emma. 

_Emma._

"Your son took Emma to the healers," he said before she could respond to his statement about having been safe, though she looked like she wanted to. "I would very much appreciate it, your Majesty, if you could either direct or lead me there so I can check on her." 

"You don't trust Thor?" Frigga wondered, even as she motioned for him to follow her out of the dome. 

"With all due respect, your Majesty, he took a Midgardian into _Jötunheimr_ without a thought for how much danger that would pose to her; no, I don't trust him with my sister's health." 

Frigga sighed and motioned towards the two horses awaiting them. "I take it you can ride, since your sister can?" 

"Give me a Jötunn shoulder any day," Tom muttered before hoisting himself up onto the horse's back. He took a moment to get situated with his...clothing, and tried to pretend he wasn't blushing as they set out. Thankfully, Frigga made no comment, and the trip to the city was a quiet one. 

Frigga took him the the large citadel and led him through the high-ceilinged corridors to the healing chambers. As they went, Tom couldn't help but think, _'This is what a palace should looks like.'_

He wasn't certain whether he hated Asgard more for making him feel like Jötunheimr was lacking, or because they'd been the ones to leave the Realm in that state. 

As soon as he'd gained entrance to the healing chambers, Tom brushed past Thor and hurried to the bed where Emma was sitting up, smiling and cuddling the fur robe Tom had wrapped him in. "Thank God," he breathed upon seeing her. 

Emma's smile brightened upon seeing him. "Tom! I _told_ Sarah I would find you! I told her you hadn't run off like stupid Yakky kept saying." She made a face while Tom tried not to smile at the rude name she used for Sarah's husband. "He says you're a great coward because you would rather follow us back to his home than make sure Mum is cared for." 

"Emma," Tom interrupted, amusement draining away, "he's not wrong. I don't want to take care of Mum." He'd known it, known his feelings on the matter the entire time, as loathe as he was to admit them to himself, let alone anyone else. Torn between a son's duty and a brother's heart; was it any wonder he had preferred to chance death by hiding in Loki's sleigh? 

Emma hunkered down behind his robe. "But...why not?" she whispered. "She's...she's our _mother_ , Tom. We can't just _leave_ her–"

"She's an adult, perfectly capable of taking care of herself," Tom insisted. 

"She's _sick_ , Tom!" Emma snapped, straightening and looking so much like Sarah had when she and Tom had fought, Tom's heart ached for home. "You can't expect a sick woman to take care of _herself_."

He shook the homesickness away and met Emma's stare in a way he hadn't been able to meet Sarah's. "Then she needs to be the one to go with Sarah and Yakov, not you and me. A change of scenery will probably do her some good, and God alone knows how much further damage our winters are doing to her health." 

Emma looked rather taken aback, blinking a few times in surprise. "I–"

Tom sighed and looked down at where her feet were tenting the blanket beneath the edge of the fur robe. "Sarah doesn't want to be stuck taking care of Mum any more than I do," he said quietly. "Yakov sided with her, insisting it was the _son's_ duty to take care of his parents. That's why I'm supposed to be staying behind and you leaving." 

They were both silent for a long, strained moment, before Emma muttered, "Stupid Yakky." 

Tom glanced up at her and wiggled his eyebrows in the way he'd always done when he was sharing a private joke with her or Sarah, and Emma started giggling a bit helplessly. 

An unsmiling woman in a golden gown stopped next to Tom. "Well, I'm glad to see you've seemed to work off that chill." She turned to Tom. "Let's have a look at you, then, boy." 

Tom dodged the arm reaching for him and put the bed between them. "I assure you, I am perfectly healthy." 

She snorted and started around the obstruction towards him. "Nonsense. You've been in that wretched Realm for _days_. The Norns alone know what those savages–"

Tom felt his hackles rise at the insult to Loki and his people. "Don't you _dare_ call people that _your king_ left with a dying Realm _savages_!" he hissed. 

The woman – a healer, Tom would assume – was shocked into silence, but the same fate hadn't befallen Thor, as the man stepped forward, booming, "What lies are these, Midgardian?" 

"Thor," Frigga cautioned, touching his hand lightly. 

That brought Thor up short and he glanced back at her. "Mother? These are just lies...aren't they?" 

Frigga sighed and looked past her son to Tom. "My husband had to make a hard choice for the good of all the Realms." 

Thor snatched his hand away from his mother, looking horrified, while the healer grimly looked away. 

Tom clenched his hands into fists at his sides. "Dooming an entire race should never have even been an option to begin with." 

"It is not up to you, Midgardian, to judge the choices I made long before you were born," a new voice informed Tom, and Thor and Frigga shifted aside to reveal a white haired man glaring out of one blue eye, the other covered by a golden eye patch. He glanced to Thor. "The Midgardians are reunited and clearly both none the worse for their trip to Jötunheimr." He turned away. "Return them to their Realm." 

"I will not," Thor rumbled before Tom could find the courage to shout something nasty after Asgard's ruler. (Not that it would have done much good, but he couldn't just _leave_. Not if he was the only person in Asgard on Loki's side.) 

Odin paused and glanced over his shoulder. "You will. Now." He continued walking towards the exit. 

"Father, you are deliberately ignoring the warnings of the Norns," Thor called after him. "If one of the Realms should fall–"

Odin swung around and pointed one shaking hand at his son, snarling, "Do not think to tell me how to rule, Thor. It is _not_ your place." 

Thor opened his mouth to shout something back, but Frigga got between them and placed her hand over Thor's mouth. "Please, Husband, leave this to me. I'll see to it that the Midgardians are returned home immediately." 

Odin huffed and stormed from the healing chambers. 

"Mother," Thor pleaded as Frigga waved the healer away, "you can't just expect me to–"

"Not this moment, Thor," Frigga cautioned before looking towards the two humans. "Emma, can you walk?" 

"I think so, yes," Emma agreed and started to get out of bed. Tom was quick to help her, frowning all the while. Once she was on her feet, she held out the fur robe and said, "Where did you get this, Tom? It's very pretty." 

Tom accepted it back and slipped it on. "Jötunheimr's king gave it to me," he explained quietly. He tried not to remember the recorder and the three books Loki had also gifted him, which had been left behind on his fur bed. 

"Come," Frigga ordered and led the way out of the healing chambers. 

"Mother," Thor tried out in the hallway. 

"Not _now_ , Thor," she ordered before looking back and motioning for Tom and Emma to move closer. "Tell me of Jötunheimr's current king," she requested as she raised her hands before her and they started to glow pale green. Thor's eyes widened and he fell back to walk with Emma, leaving a clear spot next to the queen. "Laufey was not inclined to let a Midgardian into Jötunheimr at all, never mind protect them from the cold or clothe them." 

Tom fingered the insides of his sleeves. "King Loki is a..." He trailed off, uncertain how to explain the man he'd thought was the Snow Queen of his father's stories. 

"Does he want to war with the other Realms?" she requested, twirling her glowing fingers in front of her. 

"No. He's a paci– Oh, I don't know if you have a word for that. Uhm, he doesn't like fighting. Some of the other Jötnar, I think, would be happy to go to war again, like his brother, Helblindi–"

"Laufey's eldest," Frigga recognised. 

Tom shook his head. "Second child. King Loki's the eldest. But he's a sorcerer, and the way Býleistr – their other brother – explained it to me, all sorcerers are a bit... Well, they're our size." He motioned awkwardly between himself and Frigga. 

Frigga nodded, clearly having known that. "It's said a part of their physical size is trapped in the metaphysical, to store their magic." She offered him a faint smile. "Jötnar sorcerers are some of the strongest magic-users of the Nine Realms." 

Tom shrugged. "Býleistr said there hasn't been another one born since the Casket was taken. Once the current sorcerers die off in about three hundred years, Jötunheimr will go with them." 

She sighed and flicked her fingers, the light leaving them to form another party of Tom, herself, Thor, and Emma walking down an adjoining hall. "I was afraid of that," she murmured under the sounds of Thor hushing Emma's surprised noises. 

Tom watched their copies for a moment before looking back at Frigga. "Where are we going, your Majesty?" 

Frigga sighed again. "I'm afraid my husband holds too great a grudge against Laufey to make the choice he should have when we learned of his death. He insisted Laufey's son would be the same as the father, and has refused to hear otherwise since." 

"This is the way to the Weapon's Vault," Thor whispered, half surprised, half approving. 

Frigga nodded and touched Tom's arm. "You still bear King Loki's magic to protect you in Jötunheimr. Neither Thor nor I can return to Jötunheimr without Odin's permission, but you don't have those same restrictions." 

Thor grabbed both Tom and Frigga's shoulders, stopping them. "Mother," he cautioned, eyes dark, "he'll be hunted down and killed." 

"I don't care," Tom insisted, because he really didn't, not if it meant Loki and his people would be okay. 

Emma let out a whimper and grabbed his arm, hiding her face against the fur, and Tom bit his lip at the reminder that, as much as he might wish otherwise, Loki wasn't the only person he cared about who was wrapped up in the middle of this. 

But Frigga was shaking her head. "Tom is wearing clothing provided for him by the king of Jötunheimr and is wrapped in his magic. He let you take him without a fight?" she asked Thor, who nodded. "Then I don't see any reason against claiming he is King Loki's ambassador, here to argue for Jötunheimr's right to their survival. As AllMother," she added to Tom and Emma, who had raised her face from Tom's sleeve hopefully, "I am well within my rights to receive any visiting ambassadors and respond to their request as I determine is fit. Especially when the Crown Prince agrees with me." She smiled at her son. 

Thor blinked a few times in surprise, then smiled. "That is very true, Mother. I hadn't thought of it that way." 

Frigga inclined her head and continued leading the way through the hallways and down a couple of staircases to a set of large doors. There, they stopped and she cautioned Tom and Emma, "Odin will know if either of you enter the vault, so you must remain out here. Thor will stay with you." She looked up at him until he nodded in understanding, then turned and vanished through the doors. 

"You said Helblindi and others would court war," Thor rumbled, his tone suggesting he'd just remembered Tom saying that. 

Tom grimaced and nodded. "Yeah. But Helblindi was the one who forced Loki to be king, because Býleistr pointed out that they needed to rebuild Jötunheimr, not keep angering everyone else into destroying it further." 

"Will he hold to that?" Thor demanded. 

Tom opened his mouth to respond, paused uncertainly for a moment, then carefully answered, as Frigga returned, "I don't know. I know Býleistr will support Loki, and I'm pretty sure he has allies amongst his ministers." He shook his head. "I know Helblindi is afraid of Loki, at least a little, and I don't think Loki is going to give up the throne willingly to him, not if it means they'll just lose the Casket again by starting another war." 

"You will simply have to trust my judgement, Thor," Frigga told her son, who sighed, before stopping on front of Tom with a box what was the same shade of blue as the Jötnar and flickered with a weak light. "Tom Hiddleston of Midgard, Ambassador of King Loki of Jötunheimr, do you accept the responsibility to bear the Casket of Ancient Winters back to its rightful home?" 

Tom swallowed. "I do," he promised. 

Frigga inclined her head. "Then it is now in your care." She held the box out to him. 

When Tom took the box, the light within it intensified for a moment before calming to a gentle – but far stronger than before – glow. 

"Mother," Thor whispered, uncertain. 

Frigga smiled. "I had wondered," she murmured before gently intercepting Emma's reaching hand. "The Casket will affect you much the way Jötunheimr would, I'm afraid. Your brother may touch it safely, but you cannot." 

Emma withdrew her hand. "Oh." 

The AllMother lightly patted Emma's hand, then motioned that they should keep on. "We must hurry, I'm afraid, if we are to meet up with the image I sent to the stables." 

They made it in time, and Frigga waved the copies away while Thor collected four horses. 

"Your Majesty," Tom requested while the stable hands set about saddling the horses Thor chose, "do I need to warn King Loki that the AllFather doesn't know about the return of the Casket?" 

"Once you have left Asgard, Odin will have to let this matter lie, unless given cause to take it away again," Frigga explained quietly. "So long as Jötunheimr avoids war with Asgard, he will have no cause. Ah," she murmured as a young woman in pale yellow hurried up to her, hands clasped around something that shone gold. "Thank you, my dear," she said as she accepted what Tom could now see was an apple. She wrapped it in a bit of fabric torn from her gown, then slipped it into a pocket that formed in the side of Tom's robe at her bidding. "Give that to King Loki with my blessing." She smiled. "He'll know what to do with it, I think." 

Tom nodded, bemused. "Of course, your Majesty." 

Thor brought the horses over, then, and they all mounted and made their way back out to the golden dome. 

"We'll send Tom ahead," Frigga explained as they all dismounted outside the dome. "Emma, Thor will see you back to Midgard directly after that. It will be up to King Loki to send you home, young Tom," she finished, touching Tom's shoulder. 

Tom nodded. "He was going to anyway, in a couple days." 

Frigga nodded and stepped back, leaving Tom facing Emma. He took the Casket in one hand and held it down by his side and slightly behind him before holding his arm out for her. Emma immediately dashed forward, hugging him tightly. "Oh, Tom," she whispered. "Please be safe." 

"And you," Tom insisted, kissing her hair. He knew he would be safe on Jötunheimr, but that was a conversation for another time. 

Emma drew away and wiped at her eyes. "I'll talk to Sarah. Try and make her see sense about Mum. It shouldn't be your duty, not alone. We can _all_ take care of her where it's warmer." 

Tom shook his head, resigned. "Perhaps you'll have better luck than I did." 

"I will," Emma announced, setting her expression. 

Tom laughed and kissed her forehead. "Then you will," he agreed, though he wasn't sure how much he believed that. Still, he needed to go, so he gave he pulled her into one last hug, then walked into the dome, the other three following after. 

Heimdall was watching him when he entered, gaze still so heavy. He turned to Frigga after a moment, asking, "My Queen, you are certain?" 

"I am, Heimdall." 

Heimdall nodded and returned his gaze to the stars as he lifted his sword and slid it into a pedestal on the dais in front of him. "I will deposit you within the palace," he informed Tom, who nodded and tightened his grip on the Casket of Ancient Winters. As though sensing his trepidation, or excited to return home, it's glow intensified again, nearly drowning out the light of Bifröst as it wrapped around him and drew him back to Jötunheimr. 

As he landed, Tom heard Helblindi snarling, "–inish what you've started, Odinson? You won't find it so simp–"

"Helblindi, _stop_!" Loki shouted as the light of Bifröst vanished. There followed a pregnant pause, then Loki asked, "Tom?" 

Ice shattered to the ground at Helblindi's feet from where it had formed around his forearm. "That's the Casket of Ancient Winters," he said disbelievingly. 

Tom took a deep breath, then looked past the bright glow of the box in his hands to where Loki was hurrying forward, red eyes wide and locked on Tom's face, rather than the rather obvious magical artefact he was holding. "Queen Frigga said I could return this to you," he explained, talking to Helblindi, but not looking away from Loki. 

And then Loki was there, cupping Tom's face between his hands. "They didn't hurt you?" he asked. 

Tom shook his head and let go of the Casket with one hand so he could reach up and hold Loki's hand in place, wanting to keep the king from pulling away once he realised he was showing attachment to Tom, like he always did. "No. I'm fine." He closed his eyes, feeling oddly settled. "I'm completely fine." 

Loki breathed out in relief. "Thank the Norns." 

"Loki," Helblindi interrupted. "Býleistr." 

Tom blinked his eyes open as Loki pulled away, his gaze turning to the Casket. "What's wrong?" 

"The Odinson dealt Býleistr a blow that would have killed him," Loki admitted grimly, and Tom immediately shook his head in denial, for he honestly enjoyed Býleistr's presence. The Jötunn king smiled, then, and held out a hand for the Casket. "No more, however, for you have returned with exactly what is needed to save my brother's life." 

Tom immediately handed it over. "Go." 

Loki took it, but didn't turn to leave, instead reaching out his free hand for Tom. "Come along, then. You'll have to tell me exactly how you talked the AllMother into returning this." 

"And how long we have to prepare for Odin," Helblindi rumbled angrily, falling in behind them as Loki lead Tom along. 

Tom shook his head and glanced back at the giant. "Queen Frigga said that, once I was off Asgard, Odin can't come after me or it without just cause." 

Loki hummed. "That means you can't use it to wage war on them, Helblindi." 

"I know what that means." 

Loki squeezed Tom's arm. "How ever did you convince her to treat you as an ambassador?" 

Tom let out a nervous laugh. "That was her doing. She said, though, that because I was wearing clothing from you and still had your protection magic on me, it was enough." He paused as Loki laughed, bright and beautiful. "And because you let me go." 

"Ah." Loki nodded. "I would have fought to keep you, but you wouldn't let me." He cast Tom a sideways glance. "I presume your sister survived?" 

"Yeah, she's okay. Thor is taking her back to Earth." 

Loki nodded again. "And you? Will I be returning you to your extremely difficult choice once Býleistr is healed?" 

Tom swallowed. "I was rather hoping, Snow King," he said carefully, "that you would allow me to stay out the end of my week." 

Loki hummed. "I suppose I can allow my ambassador that much," he agreed. 

-0-

Thor had smashed Býleistr under the chin with his hammer to get him out of the way, which had ruined his jaw and promised a slow, painful death of starvation, unless someone was kind and killed him first. They'd held off on kindness because the best healer in Jötunheimr was less than a day's run from the palace, so they'd sent two men to bring him back, hopeful he could do what Loki alone did not have the capabilities for. 

With the Casket augmenting his magic, however, Loki had no difficulty in healing Býleistr's jaw. As soon as the youngest of the brothers could speak again, he turned to Tom and said, "If you weren't mortal, little Tom, I would insist you two marry for the good of Jötunheimr, if not each other." 

Loki's expression hardened. "I have enough imbeciles running around this city without you starting. Lay back down so I can finish my work and you can sleep off whatever Æsir disease that hammer knocked into you." 

Býleistr huffed, but did as ordered, and was soon asleep. 

Once he was snoring away, Loki took Tom's arm again and led the way out of his brother's bedroom, leaving Helblindi to watch over the younger prince. "Come," he murmured. "Let's return the Casket to its rightful place and let it again take over the care of Jötunheimr." 

Tom allowed himself to be led down one of the few halls he'd never had chance to explore, which led up a long, two-sized staircase – one side clearly meant for those of Loki and Tom's size, the other meant for the full-sized Jötnar – to what Tom assumed was the roof of the palace, judging by the giant gap he could see further along. Above where the throne sat below them, there was a long bridge, matching the hallway to Loki's room, which ended at a platform with a pedestal in the centre. The pedestal had the same silver edging as the Casket, and a dent on the top into which the Casket fit perfectly. When Loki pushed down on it, the pedestal lit up, matching the glow of the Casket. 

Loki stepped back to where Tom had stopped at the edge of the bridge and caught him around the waist, drawing him close. "Thank you," he whispered, pressing his forehead against Tom's. 

Tom closed his eyes and wrapped both his arms around Loki, locking them at the small of his back. "Even with the Casket returned, there's no way I can stay, is there?" he whispered. 

Loki let out a shuddering breath. "No," he admitted, and the word sounded like it hurt him as much as it did Tom. "I wish you hadn't come back." 

Tom swallowed. "I thought you hated liars." 

"I do," Loki whispered before gently pulling away. "With the Casket back in place, it will snow soon. I need to do what I can to fix the roof. You may stay up here, or return to the lower levels, as you please, but I will need to concentrate if you remain up here." 

"I'll stay by the stairs," Tom promised. 

Loki nodded to that and led the way back across the bridge, then turned towards the massive hole, while Tom settled down at the top of the stairs to wait, heart heavy. 

-0-

The feast that night was held in the throne room, where they could watch the snow falling through what Loki hadn't managed to fix of the roof. Tom was made to describe his 'trickery of the Æsir' only once, before Helblindi insisted he could tell the tale far better, embellishing it beyond even the vaguest relation to the truth. 

"Don't bother," Loki suggested drily before Tom could try to correct the First Prince. "Just be glad he hasn't yet got you killing Æsir by the thousands." 

Tom sighed and dropped his head to the king's shoulder. "I don't like your brother." 

Loki chuckled and slipped his arm around Tom's waist. "Don't fall asleep on me aga–" He froze for a moment, then his hand moved at Tom's hip. "What?" 

Tom raised his head so he could see what Loki was doing and found him tugging at the new pocket in his robe. "I forgot about that," he realised and slipped a hand inside so he could pull out the cloth-wrapped apple. "Here. Queen Frigga said to give it to you, with her blessing," he offered, holding it in front of Loki while he dropped his head back on the king's shoulder. 

Loki took it and slipped his hand away from Tom's waist to unwrap it, taking care not to dislodge the human from his shoulder. He froze once the apple lay in his hand, reflecting the light from the candles in the middle of the feast. 

"Loki?" Tom asked, concerned by his stillness. 

"Norns," Helblindi breathed, everyone's attention caught by the metallic fruit. "Well, you're just full of miracles today, aren't you, little mortal?" 

Tom frowned up at him. "What do you mean?" 

"That's one of Iðunn's golden apples," another Jötunn explained, leaning around his neighbour to get a better look at it. 

"It gives a mortal the strength, vitality, and longevity of the Æsir," Loki explained quietly. "If you ate this, Tom, you would be able to stay in Jötunheimr." 

Tom stared at the apple in shock. He could stay in Jötunheimr? With Loki? He could remain where his heart said it needed to be? 

"Yes," he breathed, looking up into Loki's eyes. "Please." 

Loki cupped Tom's cheek with one hand. "Tell me this isn't just a way to avoid choosing between your mother and sisters." 

"It's not," Tom promised. "I already made that choice." Seeing Emma, after days apart, had reminded him how important his sisters were to him. As much as he'd hate himself for leaving their mother to care for herself, knowing she was dying, he would be far more miserable living with the knowledge that he would never see his sisters again. That he would be utterly alone when his mother died. No Emma and Sarah, no Loki... 

Loki searched his eyes for a moment, looking for any hint of a lie, then brought the apple to Tom's lips. "Bite," he ordered, and Tom did. 

Very like with the spell Loki had cast with his kiss when Tom had first arrived, he felt, first, unbelievably cold all over. But then fire raged through his veins, heating him so, he thought he might catch fire. 

When the fire faded, he felt himself again, though he noticed the chill in the air for the first time in days. It wasn't so much that he felt like his bare legs were in danger of freezing off, as he would have expected, but it was definitely there. 

"Tom," Loki called, placing the apple into his hand. "Finish that. All of it, even the stem and the seeds. Do you understand?" 

Tom nodded and set about doing so, realising he was actually quite hungry, despite having already eaten enough to feel full. The more of the apple he ate, the less he noticed the cold, and the more his hunger seemed to ease, until he wasn't even sure he wanted the last two bites of apple core. 

Cool fingers brushed through his hair, and Tom glanced up to find Loki watching him. The king raised one eyebrow and Tom responded with a grimace before looking back at the apple core. He sighed, then finished it off. 

Loki hummed in approval and caught Tom's chin with one hand before leaning in and kissing him. Tom grabbed for his shoulders, a reminder of the first time Loki had kissed him, steadying himself against Loki licking along the seam of his lips, then pushing his tongue into Tom's mouth, chasing the sweet taste of the golden apple and leaving behind a chill that had Tom moaning for more. 

"With all due respect, Majesty," Tom heard Helblindi saying as Loki's mouth pulled away from him, "I have no interest in watching you fuck someone at a feast again. Take him to your own room." 

"You have no room to complain, Helblindi," Loki informed his brother, even as he drew Tom away from the table. "I can count at least two occasions in the past decade where you had some poor fool bending over their own wine glass for the chance that you might give them a taste of your oversized prick." 

The group burst out laughing, and Tom glanced back to find that Helblindi, too, was laughing. Which meant Loki hadn't insulted him too much. "Did you really?" he asked Loki, not certain if he wanted to know the answer or not. 

Loki glanced at him, red eyes dancing with amusement. "What? Fuck someone at a feast? Of course. It's popular past time on Vanaheimr." His mouth twisted with a smirk as he brought Tom's hand up to kiss it. "Are you jealous, my darling Tom?" 

Before Tom could decide if that's what the emotion rolling in his stomach was, Loki straightened one of his fingers and wrapped his lips around it, sucking lightly. The sensation shot straight to Tom's cock and he gasped, grabbing for Loki's shoulder and holding on tight enough to dent his skin. "Oh my God," he breathed, staring into the bright red eyes. 

Loki let go of Tom's finger long enough to whisper, "Want to see a magic trick I can't usually manage?" 

"Yes," Tom whispered, because he rather wanted to see all of Loki's magic tricks. 

Loki slipped Tom's finger back into his mouth and hummed around it. 

It wasn't until Loki had released his finger again that Tom realised they were in Loki's room, standing over the pile of furs he always slept on. The king pushed Tom's robe off his shoulders, and Tom let it fall to the furs before quickly pulling his tunic off and tossing it towards where his clothing from Earth was serving as a cushion for his books and the recorder. 

Loki pulled him down onto the furs, laying down beneath Tom. "Would you like to know why I said gender is a complicated matter for Jötnar?" he murmured as he loosened Tom's loincloth. 

Tom flushed as it came free. "Yes." 

Loki quickly undid his own loincloth, then guided Tom's hand down to where he would have expected to find a cock. Instead, there was a long gap, like he remembered Emma having from back when he helped change her diapers. Tom pressed his fingers between Loki's flesh and stroked along the inside, along the edges of his vaginal opening and up to where he'd predicted to reach the air again, only to find what felt more like the cock he'd expected at first. Loki smiled as Tom blinked in surprise, then sat up to actually look. 

From between Loki's folds, a cock was still growing, dark blue and leaning up towards Loki's stomach with interest. When Tom wrapped his hand around it and gave it a quick stroke, Loki let out an absolutely gorgeous gasping sound and arched up. Experimentally, Tom slipped a couple fingers back between Loki's folds and into his vagina while his other hand stroked along the blue cock again. 

Loki cried out and grabbed his wrist. "Tom, please," he whispered, blinking down his body. "Too much. I'm not– Ah!" he cried when Tom pressed his fingers a little deeper inside of him. "Norns, you're going to kill me." 

Tom grinned at that. "No I'm not." 

Loki firmly unwrapped Tom's hand from his cock and pulled him up to lay over the king. When Tom slipped his fingers from Loki's vagina up the underside of his cock, Loki let out a whine and reached down to pull that hand away, too. "Stop that and come here." He leaned up to nudge noses with Tom and nipped at his lower lip, which was unexpectedly calming. (Tom maybe suspected magic, not that he'd ever say as much.) "I'm not meant to have both accessible at the same time," Loki whispered against Tom's lips. 

Tom pressed his forehead against Loki's and stared down into the beautiful red eyes watching him. "Why not?" he asked, wondering if Loki would even answer him. 

Loki's eyes looked down and Tom breathed out in surprise when a cool hand brushed across the heated skin of his chest and down his abdomen. "It's a matter of biology," the king murmured, his hand teasing just out of reach of where Tom's cock hung between them. "If my prick is out, my body knows it will be expelling my seed, and should change it to sperm." He tilted his head and licked at Tom's lips, recapturing his attention, which was largely focussed on the hand that was soothing over his lower abdomen. "If my prick is hidden away, my body knows I will be accepting the seed of another." He licked at Tom's lips before nipping his lower lip again. "And, should the season be right, prepare for impregnation." 

It took Tom a moment for his mind to process that, but when it had, he met Loki's steady stare, his own eyes gone wide. "You can get pregnant?" 

Loki hummed. "I did tell you gender is complicated," he pointed out. "Of course I can. But not now." His hand finally wrapped around Tom's cock, and Tom failed to choke back his surprised moan or stop his back from arching. Beneath him, Loki's red eyes practically _glowed_ with pleasure as he gave Tom a slow stroke. "There are a great many things that must happen before I can become pregnant." His legs widened abruptly, surprising Tom so much he fell between them. "For now..." Loki whispered against Tom's lips before guiding Tom's cock to his vaginal opening. "Please, my Tom." 

Tom swallowed and, holding Loki's gaze, slowly pushed forward. And, _God_ , it felt amazing, with Loki squeezing him all over, the faint chill of his body only emphasizing the heat of Tom's. "You're _perfect_ ," he whispered to Loki. 

Something Tom thought might be gratitude flashed through Loki's eyes before he closed them and tilted his head back, baring his throat. "Please," he whispered, before letting out a whine as Tom took that to mean he should move. Which it clearly hadn't meant _not_ to, because Loki met him when Tom thrust back in, but he also pulled Tom's head down towards his throat. 

Tom took the hint and, keeping in mind how thick Jötunn skin was, bit down hard enough that he was sure Loki would feel it. 

Judging by the sound Loki made and the way his body arched, he'd definitely felt that, and it was exactly what he'd wanted. Which really just meant Tom did it again. And again. Until Loki was clawing at his back and letting out a high-pitched keen, which went straight to Tom's cock. 

Tom didn't even realise he was coming until he'd already stilled in Loki do to so. "Sorry," he whispered to Loki's breathless laugh. 

Loki lowered his head and caught Tom's mouth in a brief kiss before taking one of his hands and guiding it down to where their bodies were joined. "Here," he whispered, pressing two of Tom's fingers to a little bump of skin just before his vaginal opening. "Rub there." 

Tom did as directed and Loki's head went back with a moan. When Tom bit down directly over his Adam's apple, Loki let out a scream, body tensing and passage tightening so much, it was nearly painful for Tom. When Loki relaxed, Tom withdrew, earning a broken whine from the king. "Okay?" he asked, a little afraid he'd done something wrong. 

Loki nodded and twisted onto his side, pulling Tom down to lay next to him on the furs. He nudged noses with Tom and offered him a tired smile. "You're never leaving me," he murmured, tone suggested the words were a threat. 

Tom immediately shook his head. "God, no. Why would I?" 

Loki blinked at that, then laughed and curled against Tom's chest. "Why indeed?" he whispered, as though sharing a joke with himself, and Tom frowned, but didn't ask. When Loki looked back up, he'd composed his expression to what Tom was used to seeing when he was acting like the king of his Realm. "Will you be my Second King? Ambassador of Jötunheimr to the Nine Realms?" 

Tom swallowed. "I think you'll have to teach me AllSpeak before I can be your ambassador," he pointed out. 

Loki snorted. "And I will, but all of the people you would be speaking with know it themselves, so that is of little concern." He smoothed a hand along Tom's side, resting it on his hip. "Will you?" 

"Yes," Tom breathed, settling his own hand on Loki's hip. "I would like nothing more." 

"Except to fuck me again?" Loki teased, his eyes going half-lidded. 

"Loki!" Tom complained, flushing. 

Loki laughed before leaning in and silencing Tom's indignation with a kiss. 

Which, yes, absolutely led to another round of _copulation_. God, he was engaged to a man with an absolutely _filthy_ mouth, wasn't he? 

-0-

Two days later, Tom got Loki to come with him to visit his family. "They have the right to know I'm not coming back," he'd insisted. "Unless you _want_ Emma finding her way to Asgard again and talking Prince Thor into paying us a visit to check whether you killed me or not." 

"Heimdall will quickly be able to inform him otherwise," Loki had replied, but he'd still changed into the fur gown and robe he wore when visiting Earth. "Or any of the Nine Realms," he explained when Tom had commented on it. "Most species seem to find it rude to run around in only your loincloth." 

"I hadn't noticed," Tom muttered to himself, rolling his eyes. He, too, had changed, having no interest in visiting Earth without trousers. He kept his robe, however, as it was far more comfortable than his human coat, but also a way for him to say, 'I don't belong on Earth any more'. 

Loki snorted and gave him a hand into the sleigh. "I don't intend to stay more than an hour," he told his brothers, both of whom had put forth some disapproval about Loki taking his fiancé back to Earth. 

"And what if Asgard comes knocking while you're away?" Helblindi demanded. "Do you expect us to ask them to wait until you've finished breaking the treaty to destroy us?" 

"He's not breaking the treaty, I've invited him to visit my Realm," Tom pointed out. He'd talked Loki into letting him read the treaty before he suggested they visit Earth, wanting to see if there was any possible way around Loki not being allowed to leave Jötunheimr. It turned out all he needed to do, as a member of Earth's people, was formally invite Loki to visit. (Which he wouldn't be able to do any more once they were married, but one of the things he wanted to do as Ambassador was re-word the treaty to allow the Jötnar sorcerers access to Earth, since the travel was good for both Jötunheimr and Earth.) 

"And what makes you think that will stop the AllFather?" Helblindi snarled. 

Tom sighed. "I don't, but it does absolve him of any claim of 'just cause', which means _he_ is the one breaking the treaty." 

"That will stop him," Loki added drily. "If he thinks to send an ambassador, inform them I will send my own to Asgard once we've returned. If they demand to wait for my return, you have my permission to make them _extremely_ uncomfortable, so long as you don't make any overt threats." 

"We'll handle everything," Býleistr promised, patting Helblindi's shoulder hard enough to make him flinch. "Good luck." 

"Try not to start any wars while I'm away," Loki said tiredly, then motioned to light the sleigh with magic while both of his brothers laughed. Loki shook his head and they slid through a shimmer in the air. (Loki called them 'rips in Yggdrasil', and had explained that they appeared in all of the Realms, providing easy travel between them, though they weren't always accessible to non-sorcerers. Emma, he'd suggested, had probably found her way to Asgard through just such a tear.) 

They appeared in the same clearing Tom had first seen Loki in. It was snowing lightly, and Loki smiled at it even as he directed his sleigh towards the direction Tom was pointing him. 

There was a cart parked in front of the Hiddleston cottage, already more than half filled with Sarah and Emma's things. Tom sighed at the proof that Sarah was still refusing to take their mother with her. "I shouldn't be surprised," he muttered as he jumped down and held up a hand for Loki. 

"At what? My perfect parking skills?" Loki returned with a smirk. 

Tom chuckled. "I'm never surprised by your perfection, Snow King." 

Loki's smirk softened into a smile. 

The door of the cottage flew open and Emma barrelled through, shouting, "You're back! She said you wouldn't be com–" She froze, finally catching sight of Loki, who raised one dark eyebrow at her. "She looks like one of the snow giants," she said to Tom. 

"Frost giants," Tom corrected, pulling her into a hug. "And that's because he is one." He shook his head. "Are Sarah and–"

"Emma Elizabeth, you get back in here right this minute!" Sarah shouted before stepping out of the cottage. 

"That answers that question," Tom muttered as Emma giggled. Raising his voice, he called, "Sarah, it's me." 

Sarah stuck her hands on her hips and glared at him. "About time. I was almost convinced Yakov was right and you'd done ran off. But you're back now, so I don't have to worry about asking the neighbours to take care of Mum. And why is that woman _blue_?"

"Your entire family is confused," Loki whispered. 

"You enjoy it, be honest," Tom whispered back before pushing Emma towards the door. "Might we take this inside, Sarah? I have no interest in watching Emma almost freeze to death again." 

Sarah's eyes zeroed in on their youngest sister. "Excuse me, what's this? When did this happen?" 

"While I was away," Emma snapped and shoved past Sarah to get back into the cottage. 

"You are not leaving it with just that, Emma!" Sarah snapped back, spinning around and following her inside. "You've told me nothing but lies about running away, and I'm _through_!"

Tom sighed. "Oh dear. I'm sorry, in advance," he offered his fiancé. "It seems I'm bringing you into the middle of a couple of arguments." 

Loki shrugged and wrapped his arm around Tom's waist. "To be fair, I'm making you Ambassador to the Realm that everyone else hates." 

"Hm. When you put it like that, you almost sound like you deserve having to sit through this." 

Loki chuckled and kissed Tom's cheek, then drew away so they could step into the cottage. 

Inside, Sarah was stroking the fire, Yakov standing near her. Emma was sitting in what had once been their father's chair, expression sour. "Hello, Yakov," Tom offered to his brother-in-law as he closed the door behind him. 

"It is good to see you are not the coward I took you for," Yakov returned. 

Loki let out a disgusted noise and walked over to the far end of the room, getting away from the fire. 

Tom sighed and walked over take the poker from Sarah. "It's more than warm enough in here. Unless you intend to roast Mum in her sick bed?" 

"She could do with a bit of roasting," Emma muttered. 

"Emma Eli–"

"Stop calling me that, Sarah!" 

"Oh dear Lord," Tom whispered rubbing his forehead. 

"I could silence them for you," Loki's voice whispered in his ear, though the king was some distance away. 

Tom shook his head, then raised his voice over Sarah and Emma's bickering to say, "I'm not staying." 

Both of them fell silent and turned to him, Emma looking wounded, Sarah furious. 

"So indeed, you are a coward," Yakov decided. 

Tom rubbed at his forehead and motioned toward Loki. "May I introduce my fiancé, King Loki of Jötunheimr." 

"Fiancé?!" Emma squeaked, turning wide eyes on Loki. 

" _King_?" Sarah repeated, staring at Tom. "A _male_ , Thomas?" 

"Oh, don't you _even_ start with me, Sarah," Tom snapped. "You marrying a bloody Indian is half the reason Father left." 

Sarah stood and glared up at Tom, shoving her finger into the middle of his chest. "You are _not_ putting this on me! He left because you had to go and crack your head–"

"That was _ten years ago_! And it wasn't even my fault!" 

"That's when they started fighting!" 

"And that's on _them_! _Not_ on me! And not," he continued, softening his tone and gripping her shoulders, "on you. For God's sake, Sarah. Their fighting was their own fault. Me cracking my head didn't force them to start arguing, and neither did you staying too long with your friends. It's their. Bloody. Fault." He sighed and gently knocked on the side of her head. "I thought I was the one with the broken head here, not you." 

Sarah let out a strangled laugh and shoved at Tom, who had to force himself to rock backwards, because he was far too strong after the apple for her to unbalance him like that. "Maybe it's a cracked thought," she muttered and rubbed at her eyes. 

Tom sighed and glanced over at Loki, who was frowning. As soon as he realised Tom was watching him, he motioned him over. Tom squeezed Sarah's shoulder gently, then walked over. When Loki immediately slipped his fingers into Tom's curls, he laughed. "It was ten years ago, Loki. I'm fine." 

Loki huffed. "Your people are far too fragile." He leaned forward and pressed their foreheads together. "What happened?" 

Tom cupped Loki's face and brushed his thumbs under the red eyes. "I saw one of your sorcerers. He frightened me and I fell off the wall I was sitting on." Loki's fingers tightened in his hair and Tom winced. "Stop that. It hardly matters any more." He smiled. "At least he didn't kill me, right?" 

"I would have cut off his fingers and fed them to him," Loki snarled. 

Tom rolled his eyes and kissed his fiancé. "You would not have. You wouldn't even have known I was alive." 

Loki let out an angry noise. 

"Emma made mention of this...Jötunheimr," Yakov commented. 

Sarah groaned. "Oh, Tom, don't tell me you're bowing to her stupid stories just so you don't have to take care of Mum." 

"Excuse me," Tom snapped, turning back to his sister with a scowl, "but I am not the only person here who's refusing to take care of her." 

"So you _admit_ you're a... A _coward_!"

Loki let out a snarl and the fire and the two lit candles all went out. "You keep using that word, but I don't think you understand what it means." 

Tom could tell the temperature was dropping rapidly, though it didn't really bother him. "Loki," he warned, looking back at the king. When Loki turned his glare on him, Tom commented, "You are not freezing my family to death because you disagree over the use of one word in a language _you don't even speak_."

" _Yet_ ," Loki spat, because Tom had already agreed to teach him his native tongue. But he still raised one glowing hand and flicked his fingers, relighting the fire and the candle that was furthest from him. 

Tom sighed and looked back at his family, all of whom were hugging themselves and staring at the fire a bit disbelievingly. "Can we please agree to dispense with the name-calling, on account of the overprotective sorcerer king I'm engaged to?" 

"Oh my God," Sarah breathed before crossing herself. 

Tom shook his head. "Sarah, I'm not humouring Emma. She really did travel to two different worlds trying to find me." 

"Three," Emma piped up. When Tom raised an eyebrow at her, she explained, "I was in a really hot one before Asgard." 

Loki stepped forward and wrapped an arm around Tom from behind, resting his chin on Tom's shoulder. "There was occasionally fire shooting out from between cracks in the ground and walls?" he asked. 

"Yeah." 

"Múspellsheimr." 

Emma nodded. "That's what Thor called it, too. He said there are others of you who live there, and I was really lucky I didn't see any." 

Loki snorted. "That is putting it lightly. My people's cousins, the Eldjötnar, are even less fond of the Æsir and those who appear as them, than we are. Had they any true form of structure, the AllFather would have done to them what he did to us. As it is, we are all better served by their lawlessness." 

Emma bit her lip, then offered, "Thor and his people say really nasty things about yours." 

"Doubtless," Loki agreed with a shrug. "The Æsir – that's what Prince Thor's people are known as – do not much care for species outside their own." He sighed. "It is rather a trait shared by all the peoples of the Nine Realms, in truth, but as the Æsir hold the power, it is most noticeable in them." 

She nodded, then slid her gaze to Tom. "Queen Frigga said you wouldn't be coming back." 

" _Seers_ ," Loki muttered with distaste. 

Tom covered Loki's hand on his stomach with his own, smiling. "Stop complaining about your own good fortune," he ordered his fiancé before nodding at Emma. "She provided me with an object that ensured I could survive in Jötunheimr indefinitely. I had no idea what it was until Loki explained, or I would have said my goodbyes properly in Asgard." 

"What do you mean, survive indefinitely?" Sarah demanded. 

Tom sighed. "Jötunheimr is a Realm – a world – of ice and snow. Humans can barely survive for an hour, there." 

"You did, though," Emma pointed out. "You said there was a spell or something." 

"I can cast a spell to keep a human safe from our climate for a week," Loki commented. "But it can only be cast once, and perhaps only half of humans–"

"Humanity," Tom correctly absently. 

"–humanity can survive it." 

Tom turned to stare at Loki's blank stare. "You didn't tell me that." 

Loki met his eyes. "I knew you would survive." 

"Would I?" Emma asked, perking up. "Can you tell?" 

"Emma, we're not taking you to Jötunheimr," Tom insisted. 

Loki hummed. "Come here," he ordered and Emma jumped to her feet and hurried over. "Cover your hand with your sleeve, or I will hurt you." 

"Is this like the Casket?" Emma asked as she tugged one of her sleeves over her hand. 

Loki glanced at Tom, who shrugged. "Queen Frigga told her not to touch it because it would treat her the same way that Jötunheimr would." 

Loki nodded and looked back at Emma. "In a way," he agreed. "Yet, in a way, not. Have you ever stuck your bare hand into icy water?" 

"I haven't," she said, "but my best friend Anabelle fell into the lake, once." 

"You reached in after her, before help came," Tom recalled. He'd been the one to drag her away while she screamed for her fallen friend. "You remember how cold your coat and mittens were?" 

Emma shivered. "Yeah." 

"Double that." 

Emma looked like she was rethinking letting Loki touch her. 

The king sighed. "You will barely notice me through that cloth, I promise. Give me your hand." 

Emma looked to Tom, who nodded reassuringly, then held her hand out for Loki. 

Green sparkled across Loki's skin while he was holding Emma's hand, and he hummed before letting go. "You would survive," he offered. "It would wear off a day early, but you would survive it." 

"No," Tom said as soon as Emma turned to him. 

"What is going on out here?" 

Tom's mother was standing in the hallway that led to all the bedrooms, wearing her favourite nightgown and her quilted robe. She looked exhausted, and very like she shouldn't have been up. 

"Mother, you should be in bed!" Sarah called, stepping away from the fireplace to try and usher her back to her bedroom. 

Mother dodged her, though, moving with surprising ease and squinting towards Tom, Emma, and Loki. "Is that you, Tommy?" 

"Tommy," Loki breathed with a quiet laugh. 

"Be quiet," Tom ordered before raising his voice a bit. "Yes, Mum. I dropped in to say goodbye to everyone." 

Mother nodded wisely. "Yes. It seems I'll be losing all of my children in one fell swoop." 

"Tom can look after you still," Sarah pushed, shooting Tom a glare. 

"I would love to," Tom replied drily, "but since she can't come live with us, and I can't return once Loki and I are married–"

"What?!" Emma turned to him in horror. "No! You _have_ to visit!" 

"Once your brother marries me," Loki explained, voice soothing, "he will be beholden to the laws and treaties of my Realm. One such law states that he cannot return to Earth unless invited by a human." 

"I invite you always and forever!" Emma insisted, grabbing the hand Tom didn't have covering Loki's on his stomach and tugging on it. "You can't leave me with _her_ ," she insisted quietly. 

"That's not quite the way it works," Tom said drily. 

Loki hummed. "Do you have holidays? Preferably winter ones." 

"Christmas," Tom agreed. "It was last month. And Emma's birthday was in October. Not quite winter, but cool enough that I think you could manage it without being too miserable," he offered, catching on to what his fiancé was really asking. 

"And your birthday is in a few weeks!" Emma was quick to point out. 

Loki laughed while Tom blushed and hissed, " _Emma_."

"I do quite like your sister," Loki decided, making Tom huff. "But a standing invitation for a yearly holiday celebration should be permissible. More so, if you can manage to ease the terms of our treaty with the AllFather." 

"Christmas!" Emma insisted, grinning. "You have to come every year and stay all day and go sledding with me! And when I find a suitor, I'll bring him and you'll have to scare him off like a proper brother, right?" 

"I'm not so good a scaring off suitors," Tom pointed out, refusing to look at Yakov. 

Loki hummed. "Incidentally, I _am_."

"Helblindi's better," Tom pointed out, just because he could. 

"My brother is twice my size and looks like some poor fool tried shaping his face with an axe. Which is, strangely, not far off..." 

"Where did you get this coat, Tom?" Mother asked, having joined them when they weren't paying attention. Sarah was hovering just behind her, expression twisted with concern and upset. 

"My fiancé gave it to me, Mum," Tom said, letting go of the hand on his stomach and pulling out of Emma's grip so he could take his mother's hands. 

Mother sighed and dodged him to cup his face. "Yes, you have that glow about you." She glanced past him to where Loki's chin was resting on Tom's shoulder. "Is this her– No, him, I suppose." She tutted. "Your father would have a fit." 

"Good on him for leaving when he did, then," Tom muttered before shaking his head. "Mum, this is Loki, yes, my fiancé. He's from another world." 

Mother shook her head. "Oh, where did we go wrong, bringing up children who refuse to settle for people here?" she murmured before glancing at Emma. "Next it will be one of those brown-skinned men." 

"I'm aiming for green, actually," Emma offered cheerfully. "That way, we can have a proper rainbow around the Christmas table." 

"I've met a green-skinned species," Loki mused. 

"Don't encourage her," Tom hissed, elbowing the king. 

Loki chuckled. "Oh, I wouldn't suggest we introduce Emma to them. On the contrary, I suggest we keep her at quite a distance." 

Emma giggled. "Are they worse than the Elderyo–"

"Eldjötnar," Loki corrected gently. "I wouldn't say they are better or worse, only a different kind of dangerous." 

"What about purple-skinned?" 

" _Emma_ ," Sarah snapped. 

Loki hummed. "Some of the–" He let out a hiss and snatched his hand back from where it had been resting on Tom's stomach. 

"Loki?" 

"You are quite cold, dear," Mother commented mildly as she eyed her red fingers. 

"He's a frost giant, Mum," Tom said with a sigh as he pulled away from Loki to lead his mother to her chair next to the fireplace, Sarah following with that same expression of upset concern. "Here, let me see. Did he hurt you?" 

"Oh, I'm quite all right, Tommy," Mother promised, but she didn't pull away from Tom's careful touch as he looked over the reddened skin. It was already returning to a normal pink, so the contact must have been very brief. 

"Better not to touch him with your bare hands, Mum," he suggested. 

Mother patted his cheek. "Took precautions, did you?" 

Tom snorted. "You could say that." He sighed and pressed a kiss to her fingers. "Mum, wouldn't you like to go with Sarah and Emma and see their new home?" 

"Don't you _da_ –" Sarah started, glaring down at where Tom had crouched in front of their mother. 

"Oh, shut up, Sarah," Tom snapped, frowning at her. "Mum's allowed to decide if she'd rather go with you." 

Mother shook her head with a sigh and held out the hand Tom wasn't holding towards Sarah, who took it with a scowl. "You two keep fighting about this, and you really must stop." She squeezed their hands. "Not all of us feel the need to travel away from where we grew up. Other countries... Other worlds... These are not my dreams, but yours. I'm happy here." 

Sarah stepped forward and knelt next to Tom. "Mum, you'll die here alone." 

Mother smiled. "Then I'll die. At least I'll be in my home." She squeezed their hands again. "And I won't be alone, really. You three aren't the only ones with friends." She kept smiling even as she quickly pulled her hands away from them so she could cough into them, her whole body shaking. 

Sarah gasped when they saw blood leaking out from between her fingers, and Tom cried, "Loki!" 

The king looked distastefully at the crackling fireplace before moving to stand behind Mother's chair. "Healing magic isn't my forte," he reminded Tom. 

"He can help her?" Sarah breathed, looking at Tom. 

"I can _try_ ," Loki corrected before lightly touching Mother's shoulder, taking care to touch only her clothing. "If you will allow, I should be able to at least ease your cough, if nothing else." 

Mother glanced between Tom and Sarah's worried expressions, then over at where Emma was standing a bit away, hand over her mouth and tears causing her cheeks to shine in the firelight. "If it will make everyone feel better," she agreed. 

Loki sighed and shifted his hand to her upper back, then closed his eyes. His hand lit with green, and Mother took on a faint glow of her own as the magic soothed through her lungs. Loki's eyebrows raised slightly and he muttered, "Fragile," before the glow of his magic centred on the right side of Mother's chest. 

"Oh," Mother whispered just before Loki's magic faded away. 

"Your species is so ridiculously fragile," Loki complained before returning to the far side of the room. 

Tom kissed his mother's cheek before hurrying after his fiancé. "Thank you," he whispered as he hugged Loki. 

Loki sighed and pressed their foreheads together. "I can't promise she won't get sick again, but the tumour in her lung is gone now." 

"Thank you," Tom repeated and gave him a quick kiss. "Do you need to go outside?" 

Loki grimaced. "Am I that obvious?" 

Tom smiled. "Only because I know you so well." He kissed Loki again, then pulled back. "Go on. I want to get a couple things from my room and say my goodbyes, then we can make sure Helblindi hasn't started any wars." 

Loki groaned. "I'll kill him if he's made a mess of things." 

"No you won't." 

"I'll contemplate the pros," Loki settled on before walking out of the cottage. 

"Where is he going?" Emma asked as Tom re-joined them by the fire. 

Tom nodded towards the fireplace. "It's too hot in here for him. He needs to go cool off." He sighed. "And we need to leave, anyway." 

"Must you?" Emma complained as Sarah climbed to her feet and helped Mother up. 

"I'm afraid so. We left Loki's brothers in charge, and, knowing Helblindi, something's probably broken." He let out a dramatic sigh. "And Loki _just_ finished fixing the ceiling and that giant hole Prince Thor made, too." 

Emma giggled. "Whoops." 

Sarah shook her head and held out her arms for a hug, which Tom gladly accommodated. "I'm reserving my opinion on him," she warned. 

Tom grinned at her. "Seems only fair, since I'm doing the same regarding yours." He glanced towards where Yakov was watching the proceedings with a blank expression. "If we're honestly welcome, and something doesn't come up, we'll try to come for Christmas." 

Sarah nodded. "I'll leave a candle burning," she promised. 

"And _I'll_ make sure there's somewhere super cold for you to sleep," Emma declared, demanding her own hug. 

Tom chuckled. "Loki would appreciate that, certainly." He kissed her hair. "You behave for Sarah, and I'll consider letting you visit Jötunheimr after Christmas." 

Emma's eyes lit up while Sarah sighed. "That might work for the first year," his elder sister pointed out, "but not after that." 

"I'll come up with something," Tom promised. "A trip back to Asgard, maybe. Or one of the other Realms, if I can come up with a good reason to visit one with her." 

"I can be the ambassador of Earth!" Emma declared. 

"I don't think that's how this works..." 

"Ambassadors from Earth have all of their things packed," Sarah interrupted. "Why don't you go do that so Tom can leave." 

Emma groaned and hugged Tom tight. "Save me," she whispered against his shirt. 

Tom laughed and kissed her hair again. "Go on. I'll see you at Christmas and you can tell me about all the trouble you caused while I was gone." 

"And then Jötunheimr?" she requested hopefully. 

"We'll see." 

She huffed, but obediently left them for her room. 

Tom turned to his mother, then, and drew her into a gentle hug. "You take care of yourself, Mum. I'll try and find a good reason to visit, okay?" 

Mother laughed and kissed his cheek. "You don't worry about me, Tommy. I'll be just fine on my own." She cupped his face and smiled at him. "You go have a wonderful life with your Snow King." 

Sarah let out a surprised noise. "He is, isn't he?" she murmured, looking towards the door. 

Tom smiled. "Yes," he agreed happily. "He is."

..


End file.
